


Ask me next time

by Oriknitsmitts4me



Category: Miller's Crossing (1990)
Genre: Brief Mention of Violence, M/M, Slow Burn, Some Abuse, The Dane fucks some people up, brief mention of sex, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9616466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oriknitsmitts4me/pseuds/Oriknitsmitts4me
Summary: I wanted to read about The Dane and Mink's relationship bc they are never shown together in Miller's crossing, but there were only two works about that, so I decided to make my own content to try and get a feel for what their relationship might have been like.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I tried my best to get their manurisms, but it's hard to do. Try and remember they both have thick New York accents and Mink's voice is quite shrill, and it will feel more in character. Also, Mink speaks very, VERY quickly when he's talking normally, so he talks extra fast when he's nervous.

"You play a pretty good hand, Mink. Hey, the bar's closing. You live close, right? What say we head to your place to finish this game?"

Mink looked up, shocked. That sounded oddly...like an invite. His eye twitched a little, sirens blaring in his head. What were the chances the Dane knew? He couldn't, Mink was very careful. He never gave any sign. Maybe this was a test. Yeah. It was a test. Mink cleared his throat and continued what he was doing.

Mink carefully collected the cards, his hands shaking a little. "N-not tonight, Dane. It's getting a little late. Ask me next time." He said, leaving the cards and getting his coat from the back of his chair. He smiled, held out his hand to shake.

"Good game. Let's play again sometime." He said, tipping his head. He could feel sweat forming on his face.

"Sometime soon." The Dane replied.

Mink nodded, grinding his teeth. If this was a joke, the Dane was taking his time. Mink looked down to see the Dane was still shaking his hand. The Dane, upon noticing, let go and took a small step back.

"Have a good night, Mink." He said, smiling.

 

A few nights later, Mink and the Dane were finishing another round of cards.

"The bars closing, Mink. How's about we go to your place to finish this game?"

Mink froze. He carefully reshuffled the cards, glancing up. "My place?" He asked, suspicious, nervous, and a little incredulous. This was the second time the Dane had asked, and so soon?

"Yeah. It's too late to get to any other bars, and you live closer than I do." The Dane said evenly, with a little smirk. Mink pursed his lips in thought.

"Yeah. Sure." He said, standing. He almost immediately regretted it. He felt a stone form in his stomach, and broke out in sweat. The two walked out of the bar, and mink lead the way a few blocks down to his apartment. The night was dark and damp, the sidewalk shone a bit, and the two men were no more than shadows, one small and lean, the other tall and imposing. It was almost 4 in the morning, and Mink could almost see the faintest glow of dawn. The entire walk home his internal monologue was him screaming at himself for being stupid, he shouldn't have said yes, if this was all a trick, the Dane was going to rip his heart out through his mouth.

They reached the apartment, and Mink shrugged off his overcoat.

"Make yourself at home. Hat rack's over there." He told the Dane, going to a table and pulling a deck of cards out of the drawer. "Want some coffee?"

"No thanks. I'll stick to cards for now." The Dane said, and Mink could here him smiling, sitting in one of the arm chairs.

Mink sat across from him and began dealing the cards. Eventually he started to relax. They played a couple rounds, and he won the last few.

"Your game's slippin', Dane. Forgotten how to play or something?" He asked, chuckling. There was a pause and then a small chuckle from the Dane. "Yeah, you could say that. I'm a little out of it."

Mink glanced out the window. The sun was just rising, casting a warm orange glow around the room.

"It's almost morning. I should turn in." Mink said reluctantly. He'd been having a good time playing cards.

"Yeah..." The Dane said slowly, he looked even more disappointed than Mink felt. "I could stay." He said after a moment, nonchalantly.

Mink's eyes went wide. The first thought through his mind was "it's a trap." He knew to follow that instinct. All it took was one slip up. One slip up and he would be splattered over the wall behind him.

He took a breath, focusing on the cards. "The chair ain't no place to sleep, Dane. Besides, you've got to be at work soon, and you gotta be rested." Mink said as smoothly as he could, but his voice sound squeaky.

"Ask me next time." He added. The Dane nodded, his face that of a man who knew that would be the answer he would get, but not the one he wanted to hear.

He walked the Dane to the door, "until next time, Dane."

"Eddie. You can call me Eddie." The Dane said smiling a crooked smile. Mink blinked a few times, staring upward at the Dane. He swallowed thickly and smiled, "I'll see you around, Eddie."

The Dane smiled, tipped his hat, and made his way downstairs.

 

Mink was sitting at the bar a few nights later, a hand over his pocket, where a small wad of money from that nights fight rested. He glanced around every few seconds, nursing his drink, alert.

So he was extra surprised when the Dane came out of nowhere and made him jump half a foot off his seat.

"Dane!" He said, his voice cracked. His hands shook as he lit a cigarette to calm himself.

"See you made a pretty penny off the fight." Dane said quietly, smirking, and glancing at the pocket Mink had been protecting. Minks hand immediately went to his pocket again, his eyes jumping to and fro, and the Dane leaned against the bar, his point made.

"So?" Mink asked, twitching. He took a drag from his cigarette. After a few puffs in silence, he was getting more anxious. "Jesus Dane, you're giving me a heart attack."

"You really outta put that somewhere safe. Jesus knows there's enough people round this joint that'd be more'n happy to make that pocket a little lighter." The Dane said, his face darkening as he scanned the bar. Casper's bar had always attracted more hardened patrons than Leo's little club. Usually Mink hung at Leo's, unless he was looking to play cards or take bets.

"'Sides, I was thinking we could play a few rounds." The Dane said, straightening and jerking his head towards the door. Mink felt his gut twist.

"My place?" Mink asked nervously, standing and getting his coat. At this point, he was worried if he said no the Dane would just bust him up a little and leave him at the bar, he had that look to him. The Dane smiled. His smile had always unnerved Mink. Whenever the Dane smiled, it looked like he was about the beat the shit out of someone. Then again, the Dane ALWAYS looked like he was about to beat the shit out of someone.

They walked to Mink's place in silence, which made Mink feel a little like he was being led to the gallows. He hunched his shoulders against the cold. He keyed open the door and the two went in. Mink turned to shut the door, but The Dane was blocking his way. He shut the door was a low slam, making Mink flinch a little.

"Why so jumpy, Mink?" The Dane asked in a low voice. Mink didn't answer, just shrugged off his jacket and went to the side table to get the cards. He kept his eye on the Dane as he easily crossed to the chair and settled himself down.

"Drink?" Mink asked, feeling like he needed one. His hands were still shaking.

"Yeah. Whatever you're havin'." The Dane said, watching him from the chair appreciatively. Mink brought over two glasses, half filled with whiskey. He sat down gingerly, realizing he hadn't grabbed any cards.

"You know, I could probably tell Casper you run some bets on fights. He pays well, you know."

"You-you'd do that?" Mink stammered, looking up from his glass, "really? Jesus Eddie, that'd be big of you, I mean, Jesus that'd be swell." He rambled, his voice high.

The Dane watched him with a bemused look. He slowly sipped his drink, watching as Mink began to fidget. He smirked behind his glass.

"L-let me get the cards-" Mink said, getting up hurriedly. He needed something to do, something to distract himself, and to get the Dane's eyes off him. He'd never liked being scrutinized. He dealt them out and they began the game, he started to relax. This would be just like last time. He and Dane go to his place, they make a little small talk, he panics the entire time, they play some cards, the Dane goes home, Mink stays up the rest of the night worrying he's somehow revealed himself and next time is the time the Dane whacks him. His own boogie man.

They finished a few rounds, and the Dane was beginning to look put out.

"Bored of cards?" Mink asked, topping up the Dane's drink. The Dane frowned, nodding.

There were a few minutes of silence, mink was getting increasingly agitated, practically jumping out of his chair he was shaking so hard.

"Tell me about the next fight." The Dane said, watching him.

"The fight?" Mink squeaked. The Dane nodded.

"It's just a fight! I don't know I never know who's throwing what I mean I'm just the bookie but you know alotofpeoplehavebeenbettingonWilsontogodown so I don't know I mean I guess if you're gonna bet I'd bet that Jesus though Eddie I ain't 'spossed to be tellin you this you didn't hear it from me ok?-you didn't hear it from me, nuh uh if people hear I'm off shooting my mouth about the fights I might as well step in front of a bus know what I mean-" he was slurring his words together with speed. When he was nervous he talked too much, he just went on and on.

The Dane stared at him as he rambled, face placid.

"It's late. The trolleys have stopped running. Maybe I should stay here tonight." The Dane interrupted, placing his empty glass on the table. Mink stared at him, dread filling him. What WAS the Dane's play here?

Mink quickly swallowed and nodded abruptly. He knew better than to disagree with the Dane once he'd made up his mind. "Yeah, Sure, Eddie, sure. If you wanna. Yeah, lemme just, I'll just-" he stood, trying to think where the Dane would sleep. He was too tall for Mink's bed, and in any case none of Mink's nightclothes would fit him. The Dane would have to sleep in his clothes.

"This chair is fine enough." The Dane told him, watching him. Mink huffed out a sigh of relief, nodding. He went and got his blanket from his bed and a pillow. Once he'd given them to the Dane, he quickly retired to his own room, shakily changing into a nightgown and crawling under the sheet. It was far too damp and chill to sleep comfortably without a blanket, but he didn't have another. He shivered, keeping an eye on the door should the Dane enter unexpectedly. He didn't see any reason for him to, but he could almost hear his own heartbeat, he was so scared. He eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, he changed quickly, hurrying out into the living room still buttoning his vest.

"Want some coffee or-" he stopped, seeing the Dane was gone. The blanket was folded up neatly on the chair. The rest of the apartment was empty. Though he was relieved, Mink was also a little disappointed. A little heaviness set in the bottom of his heart. He made himself some coffee, then sat across from the other chair.

 

The next fight, Mink was collecting his winnings at the very end of the night when the Dane came up to him.

"Dane! Fancy seeing you here!" Mink squeaked, "place any bets?"

"Just for Casper, with Bernbaum." The Dane told him. Mink fiddled with his cuff links, wishing the Dane would either tell him why he was always finding him, or leave him alone.

"Come on. I'll walk you out." The Dane said, turning towards the exit. Mink grabbed his coat and hurried to catch up with him. Once outside, he began to walk towards a trolley stop to go back to his place, assuming the Dane would follow him.

"Let's head back to my place, it's closer." The Dane said, steering Mink in the opposite direction, keeping his hand wrapped around Mink's upper arm as they began to walk. Mink's entire body was seized up, and he felt a chill go up his back. The Dane was marching him along with a sense of purpose. Mink could hear his own breathing becoming more labored, both from the swift pace the Dane had set, and how uneasy he was.

"Jesus, Eddie! Can't you slow down? You're twice my size, dammit! Jesus!" He said suddenly, pulling back a little. At the sound of his name, the Dane almost immediately slowed down. He let go of Mink's arm, where he'd been holding on rather tight. Mink supposed it was all those years of hauling much larger men than he into the woods.

Mink rubbed his arm, feeling a bruise form. He nodded quickly and they kept walking. Truth be told, while it was far outweighed by his fear, he was still curious to see what the Dane's home was like. Why he would invite him? If he was doing what Mink thought he was. If this was all a set up, he was taking his time with it. They walked a few more blocks, towards where Casper lived. They stopped a few blocks before the larger houses began, and the Dane led him to a nice apartment. The street was clean, no stray newspapers or broken bottles like where Mink lived.

The Dane led the way up the stairs, Mink followed behind, wringing his hands, fiddling with his cuffs. The Dane reached the second floor, and unlocked a door, holding it open so Mink could enter. Mink tried not to look nervous, but he could tell he wasn't fooling the Dane.

The Dane's apartment was...dustier than he had imagined. While it was larger and finer than Mink's, whose apartment was almost always falling apart, this apartment looked barely lived in. Even the floor looked dusty, like there was a faint path that lead right from the door towards what Mink assumed was the bedroom.

"I-it's a fine place, Eddie." He stammered. "Real fine." He began fidgeting with his cuffs again. "What's to do? Play some cards?" He asked, turning to see the Dane. The Dane was looking at him from under his hat, his eyes concealed. Mink froze. That wasn't a friendly look. "Eddy?"

"How about a drink?" The Dane asked, passing him and walking towards a cabinet at the end of the room. He began rooting around in it, pulled out two glasses and a bottle of scotch. He gestured to the armchairs in the middle of the room. Mink jumped into action and scooted over, sitting on the edge of the chair. The Dane brought the two empty glasses and the bottle, and poured two full glasses. He pushed one towards Mink, and he took it carefully, praying his hands wouldn't shake enough to spill any.

He practically drained the glass in one go, and the Dane held up the bottle to pour him more. He held it out and the glass was filled again, and he was careful not to drink it quite as fast. It was pretty good stuff, not top of the line, it probably better than anything Mink had ever bought.

"So, mink, tell me a little about yourself. How'd you end up a bookie, huh?"

Mink began to tell the Dane a little about himself, when he'd started taking bets, a little about his teen years. He went on for a while, the night deepened outside, his glass was refilled another time, then another. He felt more relaxed, the Dane looked relaxed, leaning back in his chair and listening to the stories.

Mink was feeling a little tipsy, and set his glass down half finished.

"And when'd you find out you were..." The Dane paused, smiled that terrible smile, "Fraternally-minded?" He asked.

Mink recognized the euphemism right away. He'd heard it used around the bar, asked about one boy or another. "Is he, well, fraternally-minded?" A woman would ask, scandalized. Every time he'd heard it, he'd seized up, it felt like everyone in the bar was looking at him.

Mink stared at the Dane, the color draining from his face.

Mink stood abruptly, his chair squeaking backwards with the force.

"Jesus, Dane, I-I- I don't know what you're talking about." He stammered, his words blending together with speed. He began moving backwards, toward the door. He was shaking like a leaf, opening and closing his mouth trying to find something intelligible to say.

"Please, Dane-please, Eddie! I-I'm not, I swear it's not, c'mon it ain't even like that!" He protested, staring at the Dane, his eyes starting to fill with tears. It was exactly as he'd expected. It was all a trap. The Dane had found a reason to spill his blood and now he was going to. He had to get out of there, he had to leave town, he was gonna get whacked, right there right then. He hadn't been careful enough. He'd been to obvious, too suspicious.

He was still walking backward, halfway to the door, when the Dane stood and closed the space between them in less than a second, grabbing Mink's wrist. Mink was too scared to scream, he just gave a half shout, his voice cracking.

"C'mon, Eddie, c'mon, don'tdothisdon'twhackmeplease-" he was cut off by a low chuckle from the Dane. His grip tightened around Mink's wrist. Mink's eyes flicked to it, then back to the Dane's face. He was breathing in gasps now, waiting for the Dane to do something.

"I'm not going to whack you, Mink." He said in a low growl. Mink stilled, not breathing. What was he going to do? Blackmail him? The Dane grinned that scary smile, and leaned down. He caught Mink's chin with his free hand.

"We ain't so different, you and I." He whispered, closing the gap between their faces.

Mink stayed frozen for another second, fear still coursing through him, but realizing he wasn't going to be killed or otherwise made miserable, he sighed in relief, and the Dane kissed him harder, his hand moving from Mink's chin to the nape of his neck, tipping his head back gently.

The Dane pulled back, searching Mink's face.

"Jesus.." Mink said softly. "This whole time I thought you were setting me up. I didn't-I was so careful-I didn't think anybody knew-but you found out? Jesus! I thought you were gonna whack me, Eddie, dammit, Jesus." He said. The Dane was still holding his wrist, and he tugged Mink gently forward towards himself, and Mink let him. He buried his face in the Dane's vest collar, shaking from adrenalin and relief.

"Come on." The Dane said in a low voice, shifting so he could wrap his arm around Mink's shoulder, and lead him towards his bedroom.

"Eddie, I don't know-" Mink said in a small voice.

"Shush. I'm gonna take care of you, now. You're my boy." Dane said, squeezing Mink's shoulders. Mink liked how that sounded. Sounded comforting. He nodded, and they kept walking. The bedroom was like the rest of the apartment, a little dark, a little gloomy, didn't really seem all that lived in. Definitely suited the Dane. The curtains were pulled shut and the only light was a lamp at an empty desk in the far corner, though the bed was large and the comforter fine. The Dane shut the door behind them, and Mink sat down on the bed gingerly.

Mink got his cigarettes out of pocket, lighting one quickly, and puffed a few times. He was still feeling a little tipsy, and the adrenaline was still pumping. The Dane made his way over and plucked the cigarette from Mink's mouth, putting it between his own lips. Mink felt his cheeks burn. He'd been so preoccupied with being afraid of the Dane, it was only then he could really appreciate the Dane's subtle handsomeness.

The Dane stripped off his coat, tossing it onto the chair at the desk, followed by his vest, before motioning for mink to do the same. He quickly complied, watching what the Dane would do next.

Mink had though the Dane was going to be indifferent and violent, bruising Mink beyond recognition, then telling him to leave. Too similar to how he treated the men he roughed up.

He wasn't.

A whole new side of The Dane emerged. It was like he was comforting Mink, almost sweet even. He watched Mink impassively, and nodded encouragingly as Mink continued undressing. Only once mink was completely undressed did he take off the rest off his own clothes. Mink averted his eyes, trying to cover as much of his own body as possible. He was rail thin, with his ribs showing and stick thin arms and legs. The Dane could probably have snapped him in half with almost no effort. The Dane stepped closer, and Mink winced. He didn't know what to expect, but suspected the worst. The Dane reached out and caressed Mink's cheek briefly, then pushed him further onto the bed.

Mink wished for his cigarette so he could have something to do, so he wasn't just lying like a rag doll, waiting for the Dane to do something. The Dane trailed his fingers over the light bruise that had formed on Mink's bicep, from where he'd been grabbed earlier.

"Turn over." The Dane told him, and Mink did. The Dane took his time, fiddled with something, before appearing behind him again. Mink tensed up, his mind going a mile a minute about everything that could go wrong, but the Dane laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax." He ordered, "I said I'm gonna take care of you." He said, more softly.

The Dane went slowly, letting Mink get his bearings as he went. Mink was for the mot part silent, except for a few short gasps. He kept his eyes screwed shut, partly from the slight burning, mostly from embarrassment.

"What, shy?" The Dane chuckled, beginning to rock back and forth. Mink nodded, his face heating up. "First time?" Mink nodded again. The Dane gave a low whistle. After a few more seconds of just the Dane moving, he spoke.

"You can touch yourself, you know. It'd probably feel better."

So Mink did. The next few minutes passed in a blur, mink started rocking his hips back to meet the Dane's, and he came first, shuddering and gasping, saying the Dane's name over and over. The Dane finished not long after.

Mink lay motionless on the bed, the sheets twisted in his fists, breathing heavily. The Dane pulled the blankets up over them, pulling Mink into an embrace. Mink let him, enjoying the comfort of the arms around him. He fell into a deep sleep.

When he awoke, the Dane was gone. He could see the sun was barely rising. He quickly dressed and went into the living room. No one was there. There was a note on the table between the chairs. Mink picked it up

"Mink, I'll see you here tonight, 8

-E.D."

Mink folded the note and put it in his vest pocket. He got his overcoat and headed out to work, patting the pocket briefly.

 

That evening he practically ran to the Dane's place, carefully smoothing his hair down and dusting off his jacket before he knocked on the door. There was a pause, then the sound of slow steps toward the door. The Dane opened the door, silhouetted, making him look even taller and more imposing than usual. His hat was pulled low over his eyes.

"Eddie!" Mink squeaked, shrinking back a bit. The Dane reached out a gloved hand and pulled him inside, and Mink's breathing got faster. Had he done something wrong? Was this the night he was gonna get whacked? What had he done to upset the Dane? He was roughly let go once he was inside and the Dane passed him, walking towards the liquor cabinet.

"I-I can go, if you want me to, Eddie." Mink began, his speech speeding up as he talked. He wrung his hands, bit his nails. "I can come back tomorrow, or really whenever you want. Please Eddie, if-if Ive done something wrong, please Eddie I swear I didn't mean to do anything! C'mon Eddie talk to me!" Mink said in a small, shrill voice, his words blending together and getting shriller as he spoke.

The Dane poured a drink and knocked it back. "Shut up." He commanded, and Mink shut his mouth. The Dane knocked back another drink and made his way to the chairs in the middle of the room. He motioned Mink to do the same, and mink scuttled over.

"Casper was being reckless today. He lost a lot of money on the last fight." The Dane said heavily.

"His fighter lost?" Mink asked hesitantly.

"No, out of town money came in, odds went straight to hell. Someone sold him out, said he threw the fight." The Dane explained in a tired voice.

Mink nodded. Casper hadn't placed the bet with him, so it must have been a different bookie.

The Dane stood, and mink waited until he started walking before he stood too. The Dane went to his bedroom, changed into a a set of plain grey pajamas. In the pajamas, with bags under his eyes and a stopped posture, the Dane didn't looks so scary. He looked tired, and lonely. Mink stripped down to his union suit, because he didn't have anything else to wear, and glanced around the room. He noticed a small gramophone on a side table.

"How about some music?" He asked, making his way over to it. The Dane didn't respond, so Mink went on ahead. He picked up the nearest record. Soft piano playing filled the room, and Mink smiled. He couldn't remember what piece it was, but he'd heard it before. In Leo's club, maybe. He realized he had been swaying to the music. He turned and saw the Dane had been watching him. He smiled apologetically and joined the Dane on the bed. The Dane pulled the blanket over them, and wrapped his arms around Mink, holding him close. He sighed into Mink's hair, the day's troubles melting away. The two fell asleep to the soft music.

 

Mink stumbled into the Dane's apartment one evening a few weeks after they'd started seeing each other regularily, causing the Dane to stand up and cross the room to him in two seconds.

"What the hell happened?" He demanded, holding Mink's face between his hands. There was a bruise blossoming across Mink's cheekbone, and his lip was cut and starting to swell.

"What. Happened." The Dane said in a low voice. His eyes were obscured by his hat, his face in shadow. "Where's your coat?"

"I-it's nothing! Please Eddie, I'm fine, really! It's nothing!" Mink said, pulling away. He bowed his head and walked to the kitchen.

"Mink." The Dane said dangerously.

Mink was silent for a while, not facing the Dane. "I got mugged on the way over." He said quickly. "Just past my neighborhood." He started shaking. "I didn't have much cash, so he just took my coat and watch, and roughed me up a little." He finished, crossing his arms, still not looking at the Dane. "It's fine, Eddie, please, let it drop."

"Did you recognize him?" The Dane asked flatly.

Mink shook his head. "He was taller than me...he-he was wearing a grey coat. An-an-and his shoes had holes in them." He stammered, rubbing the bruise on his cheek. "He had a knife."

The Dane stood away from Mink, staring holes into the floor. His fists were shaking with rage.

"Go to bed. I have to see Casper about a bet tonight." The Dane said, turning and going to get his coat. "I'll be back later." He called from the door.

Mink watched as the Dane slammed the door, and immediately lit a cigarette. He walked back to the bedroom, then back to the front door, then he circled the living room, and sat in the chair facing the door and bounced his leg. He finished his cigarette and lit another. Then he got up and kept pacing. He paced for an hour, biting his nails, and smoking cigarettes. Eventually he just sat on the bed, bouncing his leg.

He'd been so stupid, he thought to himself for the thousandth time, so so stupid, a little guy like him walking around at a time like this. He was a perfect target for mugging. He probably should have fought back or run away, but he'd been so scared. So scared he was going to be stabbed. Almost as scared as the first time he'd been in the Dane's apartment. Mink eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep, not even bothering to get under the covers.

It had been pretty easy for the Dane to find the guy. After asking a couple people at Casper's where to find "a tall guy with a grey coat and holes in his shoes who likes to rob people at knife point", he'd found where the guy lived. Then he'd had a little fun. Waited till the guy got home, then kicked his door in, gun raised. The guy had squealed like a pig, tipping back in his chair in surprise, scrambled to get away.

"Why??!" He'd shouted, "I don't even mess with Casper! Leave me alone!! I ain't done nothin!!!

The Dane caught the guy's shin under his shoe.

"I'm here for something else." He told the guy, and pressed down suddenly, the bone under his foot giving a loud crack. The guy wailed like siren, and the Dane pressed down harder.

"Shut up. You mugged someone tonight. A bookie for Johnny Casper. Where the fuck'd you put the stuff?" He asked, slowly grinding his heal back and forth on the break, making the mugger whimper and sob.

"Over there," The guy whined, pointing to a desk, "It's all there I swear!" He pleaded.

"Good." The Dane said, lifting his foot. He brought it down again, hard, and there was a sickening squelch sound, followed closely by a popping sound. The guy began wailing again, so Dane stepped off his leg, and kicked him in the ribs until he stopped screaming. "You don't FUCK with Johnny Casper's people, you understand, wise guy?" He asked dangerously.

The man nodded silently, tears streaming down his cheeks and falling on the floor. His leg was bleeding heavily and would never be the same, and at least two of his ribs were broken. The Dane ground his heal into the guy's hand for good measure, hearing a few pops and more screams, before going to the desk and grabbing Mink's things, and leaving.

 

Mink was woken up abruptly by the Dane shaking his shoulder. Mink jumped up, eyes wide.

"What?! What's wrong?" He asked shrilly.

"Nothing." The Dane said, smiling. He had a few flecks of blood on his jacket.

"What-" mink reached out a hand and touched it. The Dane grabbed his hand.

"Don't worry. Here." He held out his hand to offer something, and Mink opened his hand. His watch dropped into his palm. He couldn't believe it.

"Jesus Eddie! What happened?! How did you get this, Eddie? Jesus Christ, what-" he was cut off by the Dane waving him silent.

"Don't worry about it." He said, pulling the jacket off of Mink. Mink let him.

 

The next morning, Mink woke with his limbs tangled with the Dane's. The Dane got up and got dressed, and went into the kitchen. Mink got up more slowly, feeling sore. The Dane had been getting rougher, leaving a smattering of bruises after each encounter.   
He joined the Dane in the kitchen after he got dressed.

"I got you something." The Dane told him, grabbing his arm and tugging Mink next to him. He handed Mink a small black box, barely larger than a cigar book. Mink took it from him.

"Gee, Eddie, thanks, you didn't have to." He said, opening it. There was a tiny gun inside, the size of a small bird. There were bullets in the box too.

"What's this for...?" He asked, looking up at the Dane in alarm.

"I want you to carry it. I don't want you getting whacked on your way over." He said passively.

"Eddie, I don't know, I can't-"

"I said I want you to." The Dane interrupted, his voice dangerous. Mink nodded swiftly, closing the box and tucked it into his coats inner pocket. The Dane rolled his eyes. He opened Mink's jacket and took the box out. He took out the gun and a couple bullets.

"This is how you load it." The Dane demonstrated, then repeated the process another time, then watched as Mink did it.

"Good, you picked that up pretty quick. Now" and he uncocked the gun and slipped it and a few spare bullets into Mink's jacket pocket, "always put one in the brain. Don't go for the heart or the lungs or nowhere, ALWAYS make sure you put one in the brain." The Dane instructed, buttoning Mink's coat.

"Thanks Eddie." Mink said quietly, patting his pocket.

 

"Eddie, this is getting out of hand." Casper sighed, leaning onto his elbows on his desk. "You've bumped two poor schmucks over this kid, and put four more in the hospital. Don't you think you oughta take it easy, huh?"

The Dane glared at the opposite wall.

"Just making a point." He said shortly.

"I know Mink's your boy, and he's a good bookie, I'll say that much, but is is really worth breaking the legs of every shmada looks at him crosseyed?" Casper asked, leaning back in his chair and lighting a cigar. "It's not to good for business."

"It's fine for business." The Dane countered, "they know not to mess with your people." He said decisively.

"Alright, Eddie, alright. Mink's your boy, I, I ain't gonna tell ya how to go about with your life. But I have a feelin' that kid is gonna make you do something you don't wanna do, Eddie. I have a feelin." Casper told him, shaking his finger. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This all takes place during the movie, as a kind of "fill in the blanks", Mink's side of the story.

A few months later, Mink was wandering home from a card game, Verna on his arm, the two laughing. They'd become good friends over the last couple weeks, through Bernie. He introduced Verna as his sister at the bar one night and the two hit it off.

That night, Verna and Mink had won Tom's hat, as well as a decent bit of coin. They just turned a corner when Mink realized someone was following them. He caught the reflection in a diner mirror. A man he didn't recognize, overweight, older. He said his goodbyes and let Verna slip away without being seen by the guy tailing him. He dashed further down the street, slipped into an alley. He was panicky, muttering to himself, beginning to hyperventilate. The Dane had sent someone to spy on him, to make sure he wasn't jungled up with anyone. He didn't know what to do. The Dane couldn't find out about him and Bernie. The Dane WOULD kill him, AND Bernie. He knew the Dane was jealous, possessive even, but he hadn't thought he'd send a tail.

His breathing got faster when he heard footsteps approaching. He froze when the man came around the corner, walked further into the alley. Mink fumbled in his coat for a moment, drawing his pistol and cocked it, making the man turn around. Mink froze for a second, so did the man. They faced each other for a moment, and the gun went off. Mink watched in horror as the man stumbled back, fell against the wall, and slid onto the pavement, staring at mink in confusion and pain. Mink's mouth opened in a small gasp of horror, and he stuffed the gun back in his jacket, and took off down the street as fast as he could. He chucked the gun into the nearest gutter and kept running.

He went to the closest place, he went to Bernie. He knew it was a bone-headed move, but he didn't know what else to do.

He realized as he ran to Bernie's that he had shot the man through the heart.

 

Mink didn't know what to do after Tom's phone call. He smoked cigarette after cigarette, knocked back a few drinks, paced around and around, tearing his hair out. He couldn't think of what to do. He knew what Tom had told him, "Your lover is dead because of you, and you have to betray your real lover too, unless you want to be killed." Was what he'd meant.

He began to cry. Why had he ever taken up with Bernie? Sure, the Dane was overbearing, hounding him constantly, keeping Mink at his beck and call, but he also protected Mink, treated him well enough, except for the steady increase in bruises. But Mink could handle that. He could have handled that. But he hadn't. Instead he'd thrown himself at the first wise guy to make him an offer. Bernie was the opposite of the Dane. Bernie never stayed after they'd rumpled the sheets, he went in and out of Mink's life like wind in the autumn, here one second, big and loud and all over, and gone the next, he was more hazard than protection. Maybe that's why Mink gave in. Why he'd been eager to tell Bernie anything he could. He'd needed a break, from the Dane. Something new. Different.

And look where it'd gotten him.

There was a knock at the door, real quiet. Mink slowly went to the door, he wasn't expecting anyone. He wiped his eyes hurriedly. He slowly opened his door, and a hand clamped over his mouth.

Mink tried to scream, but whoever it was just pushed them both further into the room and shut the door, keeping his hand over Mink's mouth. Then Mink saw it was Bernie and started screaming again. Bernie slapped him, hard.

"Shut. Up." He said, putting his hand back over Mink's mouth. "Shut up! I'm dead remember? Can't have you wailing your guts out." He growled. Mink nodded, and Bernie let him go. Mink began to ask questions, but Bernie held up his hand to stop him.

"We gotta get out of town. Come with me, I'll tell you in the car." He said, starting down the stairs. Mink stood still, hesitating. He just wanted the Dane right now. He didn't want to go with Bernie. But if he stayed, he'd have to betray the Dane, Tom had said so. He was dead if he stayed. He glanced back at his apartment. He looked back at Bernie.

"Hold on. I gotta grab some money." He said, running into the kitchen. He did grab some money, but he also grabbed a pen and paper. He began to scribble.

"Eddie. I'm leaving town, I'm gonna get bumped off if I stay, and I don't know if I'll be back, but if I am, I'll find you. I'm sorry for everything. I didn't want any of this to happen.

I love you.

Mink"

He finished the note and left it on the counter, and ran back to the front door. He followed Bernie to a car-stolen? It didn't matter-and climbed in. They rode for ten minutes before Bernie began to talk.

He told Mink he'd been ratted out, and Casper had Tom come to kill him, only he convinced Tom he'd leave town, and now they were.

"But Bernie, what abou-"

"No more questions." Bernie said dismissively. They kept driving. They were driving through a forest. Mink watched the trees pass. Then they pulled to a stop. Mink sat up, alert.

"Come on, we have to pick something up." Bernie instructed, getting out of the car. "Hurry! If the Dane catches up, we're both dead!" He shouted when Mink hesitated. Mink quickly jumped out of the can and followed Bernie. They walked for almost ten minutes, silent. Then Bernie held up a hand for them to stop. Mink looked around. There was nothing around them but trees.

"What are we doing here? There's nothing here." He said, confused.

"Verna is gonna pick us up, but we have to put on disguises." Bernie told him, "Take off your jacket. We have to get changed." Mink took off his jacket and handed it to Bernie.

"Vest too." Bernie told him. So Mink took that off too. He was terribly cold, and kept glancing around for Verna.

"Sorry about this." Bernie said casually, and Mink heard the click of a gun being cocked. He spun to face Bernie, who had the gun aimed at him.

"Bernie, what are you-!"

"They expect a stiff out here, Mink, and it was your big mouth that started all this, so I think it's fair you finish it." Bernie told him bluntly.

Mink felt tears drop down his face, felt guilt and fear flow through him so hard it hurt. Thought about how he'd betrayed Eddie.

He didn't hear the shot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter, fill in the blanks, The Dane's side of the story.

"...so I grabbed the gorilla, and I beat it out of him." The Dane growled, advancing. "Give me a big guy every time. They crack easy, not like you..." He's nose to nose with tom now. Tom is staring right back at him.

"Is there a point? Or are ya just brushin up on your small talk?" Tom asked, voice flat and calm, but for a tiny shake of fear.

"I like that," the Dane said, smiling, "cool under fire...I'm impressed"

He slapped Tom twice across the face, hard, but tom recovered quicker than he'd expected.

"The Gorilla didn't know whose stiff we found, but I can fill that in."

He grabbed Tom's lapels.

"You killed Mink, you son of a bitch!!!"

He swings Tom away from the desk and knocks him in the jaw, sending Tom backwards. He advanced on Tom quickly, his breathing getting harder. "It was mink, you son of a bitch! And by God I'll hear you SAY IT!!" He said, each word becoming louder and angrier.

"Is this how you taught Drop his story?" Tom accused, glancing at the big man sitting in the chair.

"C'mere, bum." The Dane growled, reaching for Tom's neck and gripping his hands around it, watching as panic spread across Tom's face. "I am going to send you to a deep, dark place, and I am going to have FUN doing it." He shouted down at Tom.

The Dane's hands gripped Tom's throat, watched in sick glee and despair as Tom's eyes bulged, imagining what Mink's last moments were like, out there in the forest. He squeezed harder. Tom's face was turning red. How did Tom get Mink out to Miller's Crossing? Did he walk him to a car at gunpoint? Did he tell him the Dane was looking for him? What did Tom say to Mink before he shot him? Did he mock him? Dane squeezed harder, thinking about how scared Mink was, looking up at Tom as Tom was looking up at him now. He wanted Tom to suffer, worse than Mink had suffered, worse than how he was suffering right now.

Then his train of thought was cut off, something hitting his face, hard. He dropped to the floor, clutching his face in pain, it felt hot and wet with blood, he could feel it through his gloves. Why would Casper have chosen Tom over him? There was a second blow, and the Dane blacked out.

When he awoke, it was hard to breathe, his nose felt sunken it, his face was dripping blood. He gasped for breath, rising slowly off the floor. Maybe he could still convince Casper he was telling the truth. Until he heard Casper say "lookit this, kid." And storm to the desk.

The Dane's last thought were of Mink, the first time they played cards, the night they fell asleep listening to music.

 

He didn't feel the shot. 


End file.
